As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour [Drums and trumpets sound, with great 1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise. 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, With giving him glory. 3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body. Auf Here come the lords. Say no more; Enter the Lords of the city. Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deserv'd it. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd Lords. 1 Lord. We have. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier; (1) Rewarding us with our own expenses. No more infected with my country's love, That prosperously I have attempted, and With bloody passage, led your wars, even to Do more than counterpoise, a full third part, We have made peace, With no less honour to the Antiates, Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver, Together with the seal o'the senate, what Auf. Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor, in the highest degree Cor. Traitor!-How now? Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius. Marcius! Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars? Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears, Cor. (1) People of Antium. Ha! (2) Drops of tears. Auf. No more. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was fore'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Alone I did it.-Boy! Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? Con. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;-my daughter; He killed my cousin Marcus;-He killed my father. 2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage-peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o'the earth.2 His last offence to us Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace. Cor. O, that I had him, Insolent villain! With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, Auf. (1) No more than a boy of tears. His fame overspreads the world. (3) Judicial. Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. Lords. [Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him. Hold, hold, hold, hold. Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. 1 Lord. O Tullus,2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords. Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger Your heaviest censure. 1 Lord. Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded Did follow to his urn. 2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Auf. Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead march sounded. (1) Memorial. The tragedy of Coriolanus is one of the most amusing of our author's performances. The old man's merriment in Menenius; the lofty lady's dignity in Volumnia; the bridal modesty in Virgilia; the patrician and military haughtiness in Coriolanus; the plebeian malignity and tribunitian insolence in Brutus and Sicinius, make a very pleasing and interesting variety; and the various revolutions of the hero's fortune, fill the mind with anxious curiosity. There is, perhaps, too much bustle in the first act, and too little in the last. JOHNSON. END OF VOL. VI. |